


Satisfied

by like_froot



Category: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, No Beta, Suggestive Themes, i know nothing about the plot bear with me, idk tagging jic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 20:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18724204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/like_froot/pseuds/like_froot
Summary: “Who…” he tries to ask, slowly raising his hand, grabbing the man’s thin wrist without strength. His skin is cold, like a snake’s.“Mal’Damba.” he says, and the name sounds somewhere between prideful, and sad.And then, Fernando remembers.





	Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

> *singing* are you saaaatisfied with an aaaverage life?
> 
> Again I don't know much about the lore, I just like people being cute together geez

Fernando is not exactly a patient man. And he is starting to get desperate.

 

Missions go awry sometimes. That’s just how life is. He knew that when he enlisted, lying about his lineage, just in a quest for glory.

 

He should have never entered Wekono’s territory, to be fair. The goddess is known for her ruthless nature. The Mother of Sorrow and Revenge. Not like the gods Fernando is used to. Not an ounce of truly motherly nature.

 

Still, he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get it, why he is still alive.

 

Venom still hurts, deep inside. He feels tired, too tired to even stand up. Feverish, and cold. The bite mark would still sting, if it weren’t for his caretaker.

 

Who is, again, responsible for both almost killing him, and keeping him alive.

 

He thought it was just for torment, at first. A way to torture him for trespassing, fitting for Wekono’s followers. The torture doesn’t arrive, though, and he finds himself resting for who knows how long, under the insistent care of someone whose movements are way too silent, except for a faint hiss.

 

“Why… why are you…” he manages to ask, before a soft, tired groan. He is ashamed of his own voice, always so confident, so loud. He sounds weak, and probably pathetic. He is supposed to be a powerful knight, for the gods’ sake.

 

The stranger giggles a little, and it sounds sinister, but devoid of malice. Like something Fernando can still not grasp, coming from far, far away. Deep and heavy like drowning in venom, but not quite.

 

He gives Fernando something to drink, and Fernando accepts it eagerly, way too done with feeling like shit to really complain about anything he is fed. It is medicine, he knows that much, because only something truly healing can taste this bad. And this thing tastes like bitter syrup, but worse.

 

Fernando looks up, and he can discern something, this time. A mask. A brown one, adorned with feathers. Glowing, green eyes behind it. Like jewels, shining way too bright for what would considered normal.

 

Something is wrong, Fernando thinks. With that man, with eyes that look as if Wekono herself was looking through them.

 

“Who…” he tries to ask, slowly raising his hand, grabbing the man’s thin wrist without strength. His skin is cold, like a snake’s.

 

Speaking of which. Fernando definitely sees a cobra moving from the man’s waist, hissing loudly at the potential threat.

 

“Do not fret, little one.” and Fernando  _ definitely  _ knows that he is not talking to him. The snake seems to obey, and stops baring its fangs at him, for the moment. “Good girl, good girl…”

 

Nope, not talking to Fernando, that’s for sure.

 

He does feel the man’s attention back on him, though. Fernando’s fingers are still touching his wrist, but he hasn’t moved an inch.

 

“Mal’Damba.” he says, and the name sounds somewhere between prideful, and sad.

 

And then, Fernando remembers.

 

He was told about this man. About a doctor being chosen by Wekono herself, her gaze looking into the mortal realm even if just for a second.

 

“Fernando.” he says, his throat dry because of nervousness. Not fear. Never fear. He knows that there is a part of the goddess talking to him every time Mal’Damba speaks, looking at him behind those green eyes, but he is not scared. Why should he be? He has healed him, taken care of him who knows for how long.

 

If Mal’Damba wanted to kill him, he would be long dead.

 

Mal’Damba makes a sound of satisfaction, like he is happy to hear his name. His cobra playfully wriggles around his arm, probably sensing her master’s glee.

 

That’s the last thing Fernando sees before he loses consciousness again.

 

To say that he is curious would be an understatement. About the man, about his dark, cold skin. About how he looks at him behind that mask, green eyes glowing with interest.

 

"It's okay to stare, I know I'm a lot to take in." he half-jokes once, and Mal’Damba freezes for less than a second, before laughing deeply.

 

The gods be damned, he sounds somewhere between malevolent and utterly adorable.

 

“Your spirit is… full of vanity, I see.”

 

Fernando listens to his subtle lisp, dragging the “s” a little too much. Like a real snake. It looks unintentional, and he wonders if it’s yet another consequence of being chosen by the goddess.

 

“Can you truly blame me? Even in this deplorable state, I am so handsome it probably pains you not to look.”

 

Fernando cannot see his face, but he has the feeling that Mal’Damba is smiling. Which is a problem, and he deems it unfair.

 

“May I see your cute face,  _ señor  _ doctor?”

 

Flirting is like a second nature to him. He does it all the time, mostly with girls, because he doesn’t feel attracted to them at all, so it feels safe. He knows that there will never be consequences. With men, that’s a different whole matter.

 

He does feel nervous, because this time, Mal’Damba seems to freeze entirely. He fears that he has touched a delicate matter, and he is ready to apologize, but Mal’Damba’s hand moves before he can say a thing.

 

It’s slow, he realises. As if it wasn’t a movement that Mal’Damba did often. He holds the mask with one hand, and unties it with the other, carefully. Fernando gulps, almost not breathing for the first couple of seconds, and then doing it way too loudly.

 

Mal’Damba doesn’t remove his mask completely, not allowing him to see around his eyes, but that’s fine. Fernando looks at his lips and gulps again, and then at his nose. Fernando wouldn’t be able to tell his age, because he could either be just a little older than him, or more ancient than time itself. Green eyes glint from the shadows, and someone about his expression seems to amuse Mal’Damba, because he grins at him, calmly.

 

And at that, Fernando gasps.

 

“ _ Jo… Joder _ .”

 

Mal’Damba has fangs, longer than any human he has ever known. He can hear his tongue vibrate behind those teeth, and he wonders just how much of Wekono manifests on his body. The thought makes him feel his body heating, and he is sure that Mal’Damba has realised, because the vibration gets louder.

 

“Satisfied?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical, because Fernando knows that the answer is obvious.

 

Still, he nods weakly, because he cannot even utter another word.

 

Mal’Damba puts his mask back on, quicker than Fernando would have liked. He feels a little disappointed, but his body still burns, and he is sure it’s not just the fever anymore.

 

“You are a bad liar…” Mal’Damba just says, like it’s obvious. He touches Fernando’s sweaty forehead, checking his temperature, happy enough with the result.

 

But before he moves again, Fernando takes his wrist, carefully, looking at him in the eye, and feeling both the man and the goddess staring back.

 

“You’re right. I was lying. I want… I want to see more.  _ Por favor _ .”

 

The shudder he feels when Mal’Damba giggles is far from being just him being nervous, this time. He praises the gods in a whisper as Mal’Damba caresses his cheek, cold against hot and feverish.

 

There is a smile on Mal’Damba’s voice as he talks, and big, strong Fernando feels himself shaking a little.

 

“That’s more like it.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to the malfern discord btw. you're all neat and supportive!


End file.
